New Zealand Verse/For Love of Appin
IX.
For Love of Appin.
The hand is to the plough an’ the e’e is to the trail;
The river-boatie dances wi’ her heid to the gale;
But she’ll never ride to Appin;
We’ll see nae mair o’ Appin;
For ye ken we crooned “Lochaber” at the saut sea’s gate.
It’s a land of giantrie;
Its lochs are like the sea.
But it’s no a desert fairly,
The corn’s fu’ an’ early;
Ye’ll hear the laddies daffing;
Ye’ll hear the lasses laughing;
But we—we canna tine
What lies ayont the brine:
When we sang “Lochaber” then,
We were grey, grey men.
We’ll smile nae mair for ever
By the prairie or the river,
Lest ony think perchance that we forget
The rainy road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin,—
The rainy road to Appin that the leal men went.
The river-boatie dances wi’ her heid to the gale;
But she’ll never ride to Appin;
We’ll see nae mair o’ Appin;
For ye ken we crooned “Lochaber” at the saut sea’s gate.
It’s a land of giantrie;
Its lochs are like the sea.
But it’s no a desert fairly,
The corn’s fu’ an’ early;
Ye’ll hear the laddies daffing;
Ye’ll hear the lasses laughing;
But we—we canna tine
What lies ayont the brine:
When we sang “Lochaber” then,
We were grey, grey men.
We’ll smile nae mair for ever
By the prairie or the river,
Lest ony think perchance that we forget
The rainy road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin,—
The rainy road to Appin that the leal men went.
They tore us out o’ Scotland, they flang us in the west
Like a bairn’s thread o’ beads, an’ we downa look for rest.
But it’s O to lie in Appin,—
I’ the haly sod o’ Appin,—
It’s O to lie in Appin where the mist haps a’!
Cauld is this to live or die on,
But we brought the tents o’ Zion;
An’ weel the mark is seen
Where the martyr-blood hath been
That will clear us to the Lord
When the Angel wi’ the sword
Gangs nightly up the land
O’ an Egypt that is banned.
But God do sae an’ mair
To us, gin we cast a care,
Or smile again for ever
By the prairie or the river,
Lest ony think perchance that we forget
The red road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin, —
The red road to Appin that the heart’s blood tracked!
Like a bairn’s thread o’ beads, an’ we downa look for rest.
But it’s O to lie in Appin,—
I’ the haly sod o’ Appin,—
It’s O to lie in Appin where the mist haps a’!
Cauld is this to live or die on,
But we brought the tents o’ Zion;
An’ weel the mark is seen
Where the martyr-blood hath been
That will clear us to the Lord
When the Angel wi’ the sword
Gangs nightly up the land
O’ an Egypt that is banned.
But God do sae an’ mair
To us, gin we cast a care,
Or smile again for ever
By the prairie or the river,
Lest ony think perchance that we forget
The red road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin, —
The red road to Appin that the heart’s blood tracked!
It’s no a desert fairly, it’s grand an’ young an’ fine:
Here the sons o’ Anak might live an’ press the wine:
But it’s O for hame an’ Appin!—
The heather hills o’ Appin!—
The thousand years o’ Appin where the leal men lie!
Our face is set as stane,
But we’ll thank the Lord again,—
Gang saftly a’ our days;
An’ wark shall be our praise.
The bairns will tak’ a root
By the mighty mountain foot;
But we, we canna sever;
It’s no for us whatever;
We hear nae earthly singing
But it sets “Lochaber” ringing.
An’ we’ll never smile again
I’ the sunlight or the rain
Till our feet are on the lang last trail,—
The siller road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin,—
The siller road to Appin rinnin’ a’ the way to God!
Here the sons o’ Anak might live an’ press the wine:
But it’s O for hame an’ Appin!—
The heather hills o’ Appin!—
The thousand years o’ Appin where the leal men lie!
Our face is set as stane,
But we’ll thank the Lord again,—
Gang saftly a’ our days;
An’ wark shall be our praise.
The bairns will tak’ a root
By the mighty mountain foot;
But we, we canna sever;
It’s no for us whatever;
We hear nae earthly singing
But it sets “Lochaber” ringing.
An’ we’ll never smile again
I’ the sunlight or the rain
Till our feet are on the lang last trail,—
The siller road to Appin,—
East awa’ to Appin,—
The siller road to Appin rinnin’ a’ the way to God!